I walk the seldom trod, the path mostly not seen.I hear the voice of he whom no one else can. In my soul a darkness dwells, upon no one can I lean. I know not where to roam, after this race I run.The road I walk has no end, The pain is never ceasing.A rage in fold to make the grease to oil this horrible mess. I see a light far to the end, No happiness did this make.In my soul I know to bend, It is but a train all my bones to break. I have known no Joy in my soulNor peace nor any calm. I see images in my bowl, shadows of things to beMy wound is deep and there is no balm.Off I walk with bandaged arm, with wounded aching heartAlong the hidden trail. I wonder when I'll meet the harm That turns flesh so pail.To pass on from toil and sinTo awaken at the end.

First thought that came to mind when I saw the title of this poem was the Talking Head's "Road to Nowhere." But neither that catchy tune, nor its lyrics, really match the more somber tone of this work.

I was struck by one line in particular: "I have known no Joy in my soul." Nice choice to capitalize "Joy"....thinking of C.S. Lewis' playful title, "Surprised by Joy" wherein Joy refers to both his wife...and another name for the Holy Spirit. If Joy is indeed love (or Love, or God), then this narrator is indeed to be pitied. In some sense, it is the solo voice of the ragged prophet, crying in the wilderness...in another, it could be Dumbledore or another wizard of lore ("I see images in my bowl..." - a pensieve, perhaps?). And the bowl could also stand for the bowls of wrath, to be released upon the world (in Revelation and hinted at with the prophets Ezekiel and Isaiah)...BUT...

On the other hand perhaps this is the writer Miki herself speaking from a depressed place. In which case, I would remind you that you have Lisa and Laurie and your online friends...and that you are not alone (contrary to what author Jose Chung stated on THE X-FILES all those years ago).

Unless, of course, they (L and L, and all of us "out here") are also fictional, or unreachable...in which case, the narrator Miki is indeed walking the road less taken, even without Mr. Frost, listening to a voice (God?) that many cannot hear.

Last random thought: if all roads lead to Rome...perhaps (as this poem may suggest), many roads lead to Emptiness....or, in the positive sense of the word, Nirvana. The emptiness of thought/concepts/false ego. I am also reminded of the words of Rumi: "there is a field...where I will meet you...where there are no concepts."